


The best by far is you.

by Summertime_saddness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Post-Nogitsune
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summertime_saddness/pseuds/Summertime_saddness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My body isn't mine you know." Stiles says quietly, causally. </p><p>"What?" Malia mumbles.</p><p>She sounds sleepy, content. Like they have all the time in the world to lay here and just be. Like, Alison isn't dead, and a evil spirit didn't rob him of his rightful body and give him a knock off replacement, like chaos isn't still raging inside of him, just brimming beneath the surface. He thinks that if Malia pressed one of her claws just a little bit deeper, would only just pierce the skin, it would be enough for some of it to escape, to spill out of him like a crack in a pen, all dark ink staining everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The best by far is you.

"My body isn't mine you know." He says quietly, causally. They are sitting on his floor, the carpet leaving fuzzy residue against their underwear, as they squint at each other through the slivers of sunlight shining through his window. Malia had insisted that they at least take off their clothes, let the sunlight permeate their skin, and warm them from the outside in. 

"I thought you were coyote, not a cat." Stiles had smirked, but he had tugged his t shirt off all the same. 

It wasn't sexual, laying pressed close together, their sun warmed skin smelling sweet with sweat, it was comforting. Like a hug that lasts just a little too long but you still don't want to pull away. That's how Malia feels all the time to Stiles, like the perfect warm press of bodies, of a hand being held with no expectations. God, he thinks he loves her. Now, she just nuzzles closer to him, trailing a clawed fingers carefully across his thigh, making him shiver. 

"What?" Malia mumbles.

She sounds sleepy, content. Like they have all the time in the world to lay here and just be. Like, Alison isn't dead, and a evil spirit didn't rob him of his rightful body and give him a knock off replacement, like chaos isn't still raging inside of him, just brimming beneath the surface. He thinks that if Malia pressed one of her claws a just a little deeper, would only just pierce the skin, it would be enough for some of it to escape, to spill out of him like a crack in a pen, all dark ink staining everything. Malia jolts, eyes snapping into focus. 

"What's wrong?"

He deliberately calms his breathing, in and out, in and out. And barks out a laugh, reaching a shaking hand to brush across his face.

"Nothing, nothing, just forget it, OK? Forget it."

Malia stares at him, opens her mouth as if to speak, but his face must stop her because all she does is sigh and burrow herself closer into his side. Stiles refused to ruin the moment, just brings a arm up to cover Malia's warm shoulders and forces himself to relax, to just breathe into the quiet. 

"Bodies aren't that important." Malia says suddenly. 

Stiles jerks slightly at the sudden intrusion of noise, turning slightly to see her face. She's turned slightly away from him, body angled towards the light still streaming from the window. Her brown hair is lighter now, he thinks Lydia tried to convince her to try blonde, and it spills down her shoulders and across Stiles chest where she's pressed into it. 

"What do you mean?" Stiles asks, clearing his throat at the slight scratchy hardness of his voice. 

Malia sighs, as if she's slightly put out that Stiles is asking for some kind of clarification.

"I mean," She says, exasperation clear in her voice, as she tilts her head up slightly so her voice isn't muffled. "That bodies don't matter so much."

"Malia," Stiles says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and then giving in when Malia only flops her face back down against his skin. "You can't explain something properly by just repeating yourself but...angrier."  
Malia huffs and Stiles laughs as her breath tickles across his skin. 

"I just mean," Malia says, sitting up slightly, "that, I'm a werecoyote." She pauses, and Stiles gives her the time to think, running his long fingers through her hair as she frowns.

"I'm a werecoyote," she says slowly, "But I'm just me, I'm just Malia. When I shift into a coyote, I'm me and and when I change, and I have fingers and skin like this,” She wriggles her fingers against Stiles ribs for empathis, and he laughs, pushing her hands away as she grins. "I'm also me."

"I get why I couldn't just stay a coyote forever," She says grudgingly, "But I'm still the same person that I was as a coyote, just because my form right now is a human doesn't change that. If I could shift into, into, a bear would I be a different person? Or if I could shift into a new human body, would I suddenly change? I'd still just be me." 

She shakes her head softly. "I just don't get why everything is so black and white here," she says softly, running her fingers against Stiles’ pale chest, chasing the freckles that splatter down across his rib cage. "We're just...us."

Stiles grabs her hands, bringing it up to his face to press his mouth against it softly, watching the way her eyes go soft at the contact.

"Are you telling me that you believe in souls," He says teasingly. 

But Malia just shrugs, pulling her hand free to push her hair off her face, Stiles can tell it annoys her, he won't be surprised if she cuts it off before the end of the summer. 

"I guess, I mean, doesn't it make the most sense? Bodies are just...bodies." She leans in and kisses Stiles mouth, "I like yours, I like yours a lot. But if you got another new body, I'd get used to it." She shrugs again. As if everything is just that simple. 

"It's not that simple," he says softly, watching her sigh against him. She looks up again, the sunlight making a golden halo around her head. She smiles at him, leans back down to kiss his stomach gently. 

"Maybe not, but good thing you've got me right?" 

Stiles smiles, gently pulling her up to kiss her.

"Good thing."

**Author's Note:**

> Was thinking about how Stiles isn't actually in his original body and this happened. Title taken from Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness - Cecilia and the Satellite. Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
